On Being an Avatar
by Masterdramon
Summary: Learning that one is but an artificial character in another man's game would upset even the sanest of men. And as for the Thief King Bakura, he's got a few choice words to share with the person in charge of this Dark RPG on the subject. One-shot.


**On Being an Avatar**

_Disclaimer: In case you haven't figured it out yet, I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters. All Yu-Gi-Oh!-related characters, settings, etc. are the intellectual property of Kazuki Takahashi._

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Anyone else could have easily missed the tripwire – it was razor-thin and virtually indistinguishable from the pitch-blackness that pervaded the rest of the tomb, and the technology for detecting such a thing easily and painlessly wouldn't be invented for a good few millennia or so. But they didn't call Bakura the Thief King for nothing…and in any event, _this_ time around, he had help.

Of course, Bakura had decidedly…mixed feelings about accepting assistance from this particular source; the one who called himself "Dark Bakura" was, after all, his own capricious and duplicitous self, albeit removed by three thousand years of involuntary imprisonment. Except even _that_ wasn't exactly right, since at least some portion of the wicked being was in actuality the archdæmon Zorc Necrophades, but the two sadistic souls were so closely intertwined after sharing living space in the Millennium Ring for such an extended period that trying to parse out which parts belonged to which monster was an exercise in futility, and one that made the Thief King's head hurt far more than was strictly advisable on such a perilous tomb-raid.

…But the long-and-short of the matter was that, given what Bakura knew of his future doppelganger's genesis, he wasn't exactly eager to extend him anything remotely resembling trust. A problem, to be sure, given that the Thief King was now serving as the Dark Bakura's own personal avatar, liable to experience all control of his mind and faculties being wrested away from him at any given moment.

This provided…complications, to be sure. To take probably the most pertinent example, the Thief King was growing decidedly and irritatingly uncertain whether he was currently sneaking through the trap-laden burial chambers of Pharaoh Akhenamkhanen because of the dead bastard's involvement with the massacre at Kul Elna, or else simply because Dark Bakura had decreed that this was the proper way to open their little "game." The Thief King suspected that it was a little of both, in that he had been chosen as the spirit's "character" specifically because their motives already aligned so heavily…but that didn't mean that Bakura had to like it, of course.

And that was the other thing – the revelation that he did not, in strictest terms, _exist_ as anything more than a moving pawn in an inordinately elaborate board game did not sit well with the Thief King, given that it clashed so heavily with all the other information his mind was taking in from his surroundings. The cold stone beneath his feet and blazing flame atop his torch both certainly _felt_ real enough, and it required quite a bit of faith to accept that the dank, fetid odor of death and decay that flowed throughout this tomb was illusory as well.

But Dark Bakura's powers were genuine, as the superhuman abilities and demonic servants the Thief King had been provided by the psychotic game master were amply demonstrating, and so it seemed rather foolish to begin doubting the spirit now, no matter how wild his story seemed to the young Egyptian's ear. And did it even truly matter if his revenge on the royal family was real and lasting, so long as he derived the requisite satisfaction from the act?

Deciding that that last question was best left unscrutinized, Bakura cleared his muddled head with a wild shake and dove straight through the single, miniscule weak-spot in the extensive network of booby-traps guarding the innermost chambers, his future self mentally directing him with stern but helpful instructions drawn from vague memories of having done this once before.

With that information at his ready advantage, it did not prove tremendously difficult for the Thief King to make his way into the central treasure room within a few more moments of cautious searching, the gold and jewels of an entire kingdom's bounty stretching as far as Bakura could see in every direction, blocking even the walls and ceiling of this massive chamber from view. Bitterly, he took a moment to wonder just how many of these riches Akhenamkhanen had been swimming in when he ordered the slaughter of his impoverished village, and briefly considering absconding with a few handfuls simply out of spite…but business needed to come before the pleasure of such petty vengeance, and so with a brief grunt of frustration the Thief King turned away from the mountains of treasure and proceeded onward.

Fortunately, Bakura was now past the very worst of the tomb's traps, as they had all been constructed on the assumption that no prize would be more enticing for a potential thief than the collected gold of a Pharaoh. But Bakura's true objective was far less…conventional, and after a handful of seconds it revealed itself in illustrious splendor: the elaborate sarcophagus of Akhenamkhanen himself, now lying unprotected at the heart of a cold and solemn burial chamber.

Briefly removing the lid partway in order to double-check the coffin's "contents" (and marveling at the fact that, with the added strength Dark Bakura had bestowed upon him, he was able to do so with the force of but a few fingers), the Thief King noticed a glint of gold tucked within the mummified corpses grasp, and with effort he managed to extricate the former Pharaoh's own personal DiaDhank, slipping it onto his own wrist with a grin. This was an amazing find, and quite a pleasant surprise after being forced to pass up all that magnificent treasure in the previous room. Now he would be able to summon and control Akhenamkhanen's guardian _Ka_ at whim, and while he very much doubted that any of them could possibly compare to his own ruthless and boundless Diabound, a bit of assured back-up certainly couldn't hurt.

Satisfied with his acquisitions, Bakura replaced the lid and made to begin hauling it back out of the tomb, but before he could take more than a few steps back toward the entryway an immense shroud covered both him and the Pharaoh's corpse, sending the Thief King reeling through an incomprehensibly infinite blackness before depositing him straight in front of his shadowed and monstrous followers, trophies in-hand.

Before Bakura had much of a chance to reorient himself from this rather hectic experience, however, the sky then began to churn and turn dark, and a moment later he could see his own face staring down from above, except far paler and bedecked in some of the most ridiculous raiments that the Thief King had ever seen. Dark Bakura, his stature magnified over their "game world" by a factor of several thousand, smirked smugly and said, "Very well done, my past self. Looks like things are proceeding quite swimmingly on your end."

"Did you just…transport me out of the tomb?" the Thief King asked heatedly, standing his ground against his massive doppelganger. Upon receiving a wider grin and a nonchalant nod, he then thundered, "Well if that's the case, why in Ra's name did you make me do all that to _begin_ with? You could have simply dropped this coffin at my feet all along!"

"Well, I suppose that I _could_ have done that," Dark Bakura replied coolly, not giving the Thief King the benefit of eye contact as he hummed some simple ditty that likely wouldn't be invented for another three thousand years. "But where would the fun in _that_ have been? Besides, I needed to make sure your abilities were still up to snuff for what I need you to do in this time period. It's been quite a while since I was…your age, after all."

"Do not speak to me as if were some sort of child," the Thief King spat back, beginning to irritably tie the sarcophagus to his servants' waiting ropes in an effort to keep his hands busy. "Don't forget that if it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have an avatar through which to directly affect this realm. There's only so much you can do from way up there."

"And I would like _you_ not to forget that your entire existence depends on my will," Dark Bakura returned dangerously, now affixing his past self with his full attention. "Should I choose to do so, I could melt you into the sands or scatter you to the wind with but a word. But don't worry – I shall continue to have use for you, at least until the resurrection of our…better half is complete."

"So once I've gone through all the trouble of bringing about the release of Zorc, you intend to simply cast me aside?" the Thief King demanded, abandoning the errand to gaze up at his future self with all his contempt. "Then what in the world is the _point_ of all this? It's not like any of it truly matters, anyway."

"I told you that it was _you_ who doesn't truly matter, pawn…not the mission itself," Dark Bakura clarified, his eyes growing narrow. "Reviving Zorc – or should I say, myself – in this Game of Darkness will revive him in the real world as well, and with my ancient powers thus unlocked the past, present, _and_ future of the planet Earth shall all be plunged into eternal shadow. Don't tell me you don't find _that_ a worthy aspiration…and a fitting punishment to the son of the man who massacred your people."

The Thief King held his glare against his pale-skinned double for several pregnant beats at this disclosure, before finally sighing deeply and returning to securing the coffin into a tight harness. "I don't really have much choice here, do I?" he inquired, his back turned to the strange conglomerate of what he would one day become and what he would very soon unleash.

"None whatsoever. Glad we finally got that straightened away," Dark Bakura answered simply, idly fondling the Millennium Ring strung around his neck. "Do not fret, however. I shall do all the talking and, if necessary, dueling for you; all that I require is that you make your way to the capital city posthaste, and I shall take care of the rest. As they say in this century, hindsight is twenty-twenty, so I know _precisely_ how to work the upcoming days of turbulence and strife to my ultimate advantage…knowledge our oh-so-virtuous counterpart, thankfully, lacks. And besides, I've just recently made quite a lovely acquisition to Diabound's arsenal, and it would be _such_ a shame not to test it out a bit."

"I'd ask, but I don't really see much of a reason to at this point," the Thief King breathed wearily, before finishing the knots on the desecrated container of Akhenamkhanen's embalmed carcass and leaping atop his horse. A great cry later and the desert bandit and his inhuman compatriots were riding off toward the horizon, Dark Bakura leering contentedly at his avatar's renewed resolve.

And as for the Thief King himself…frustrated as he was at the spirit playing literal games with his mind and body, it was probably best to simply banish any further thoughts on the subject from his mind. It was better for his sanity, and certainly less distracting as he set off to finally achieve his long-brewing vengeance.

After all, if he was going to be stuck forever as a short-lived game character, he might as well at least play to _win_.


End file.
